How A Bottle Can Save Your Life
by Biensche
Summary: Driving on a lonesome road finding a bottle - what could happen? How a bottle can save your life - the title pretty much sums it up. ;-)


**How A Bottle Can Save Your Life**

A/N: I wanted to try something different and I hope you are not going to hate me for it. So, the brothers only have a rather small part in the story but still an impact on my OC Pete. I hope you will read it anyways and let me know what you think about it.

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Looking forward to a barbecue party with his family, Pete drove down the rather lonesome road. Even though the road was in a very good condition and connected Sand Draw with Route 287, very few people ever used it. So, he was rather surprised when another car approached him and passed by. Its driver was obviously in a hurry.

Pete's eyes moved between the tarmac ahead and the speedy car in his rearview mirror. He shook his head and growled lowly, "Whatever."

Deciding that guy just was not worth wasting his thoughts about, Pete turned his attention back to the road ahead. It was still early in the summer and all trees were still a wonderful fresh green. Enjoying the countryside and the ride home, Pete drove on.

His phone rang.

"Hi Mom", Pete answered.

"Hey, sweetie. When are you going to be here?"

"It's just another 20 minutes."

Although wearing sunglasses, Pete squinted his eyes against the sun. Something was on the road. As Pete came closer he recognized a bottle and swerved around it.

"Great, people just throw their trash everywhere", he grumbled and shook his head unbelieving how some people just acted like morons when it came to treating this beautiful planet.

"What did you say?" Pete's mother asked not having understood her son's murmuring.

Pete had forgotten that he still had his mother on the phone line with him. "Sorry, mom. There was a bottle on the street and I just don't understand those damn idiots that-"

"Pete! Watch your mouth!" His mother interrupted him in a chiding voice.

"Mom, I'm not 12 anymore." Pete complained.

"Pete!"

"Yeah, sorry for those words." Pete finally gave in.

"Are you okay?" His mother changed the subject.

"Yes. I'm fine. I just had to drive around it." His brow furrowed, he thought back to the bottle. The bottle had not been transparent the way it should have been if it had been empty. Instead it was dark as if some liquid had still been inside. Why would someone throw their still full bottle of drink away? Something felt wrong. A weird, almost queasy feeling settled in his stomach.

"Pete? You still there? Pete?" The worried tone of his mother ripped him from his thoughts.

"Mom, I gotta go back."

"Back where?"

"This bottle-thing. Something isn't right. I just have to check it out." Pete hung up. He could imagine his mother pulling face at the phone in her hand feeling confused but she would understand. He just needed to take a look. Otherwise this odd feeling would never leave him alone.

He turned his car around. It was just about half a mile he had to drive back when he saw the bottle again. He stopped his car and turned the engine off. Although the danger of other cars passing through was almost non-existent, he turned on the warning lights.

Pete got out of the car and walked over to the bottle to pick it up. It was iced tea and just as he had thought it was still full. It had not even been opened yet. He turned around to see if there was more trash that needed to be picked up like wrappers from burgers or candy.

Placing the bottle inside his car to get it off the street, he turned his attention once more back to side of the road. A steep slope was just next to it leading into a ditch. He walked over to take a look.

"Oh my god!" Pete did not know if he shouted or whispered it. It did not matter anyway.

Down the embankment near the ditch was a black car.

Pete hurried down towards the automobile. In the driver's seat sat a young man in his mid to late twenties. His head leaned on the steering wheel. Blood was smeared over his face.

"Oh holy sh-", Pete stopped himself cursing hearing his mother's scolding in his head. He breathed deeply as the situation slowly sank in.

Trying to pry open the door but it was completely stuck, Pete saw the huge dents in it. There was no way he was going to get it open. And he might cause more damage to the driver as the dented door probably stuck the man's legs.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Pete tried in a loud but as calm as possible voice. But there was no response. He sought for a pulse at the victim's neck which he found astonishingly strong although slow.

This was definitely not he had imagined how his evening played out. Trying to gather his thoughts, Pete looked back at the victim inside the car.

"Help, he needs help!" Eventually, Pete mumbled to himself. Then he fumbled through his jeans pockets until he finally found his cell phone. Once he had the emergency operator on the line, he relayed the situation and the location in a shaky voice. He sincerely hoped he had made sense and help would soon arrive just as the operator had promised.

Collecting his first aid kit from the car, Pete tried to get his trembling and frayed nerves under some control again. After he came to a stop beside the driver's door again, he began to look for the source of blood that covered the man's face. While he probed the head, he tried to rouse him again.

"Hey man, can you hear me?" Pete's voice was a gentle and steady as he could muster and he thought, he did a pretty good job at that.

This time, the young man in the driver's seat moaned, although Pete did not know if it was because he had talked to him or causing him pain that penetrated through the unconsciousness. Whatever it was, the injured man was awake. To some extent, at least. His eye lids fluttered but remained closed.

"Open your eyes. C'mon!" Pete coaxed, "Yes, you can do it."

The man's eyes opened slowly. They were glazed, unfocused, and utterly confused.

"Hi, you with me, man?" Pete crouched down further to get in the man's line of sight.

Suddenly, the man tried to stir. His movements were panicky and his eyes moved frantically.

"Calm down, please. Help's on the way. But you need to calm down." Pete put his hands on the man's shoulders to get him still again. And either he had a good influence on the man or he was simply too weak to keep on struggling, but the man slumped back over the steering wheel. The man inhaled and exhaled loudly as if it was a major effort. Maybe his moving had been, Pete mused silently.

"What's your name?"

"Sam…"

"Sam? I'm Pete."

"My brother."

Pete frowned irritated. "You need help, man. Then you can call your brother."

But the man seemed only to get more agitated at Pete's words. Obviously, Pete had misunderstood.

"No, no…" The man groaned. "Sam… car…" He pushed out willing Pete to comprehend.

"I don't…" Pete trailed off. He did not want to aggravate the driver's situation by telling him that he did not get what the man tried to tell him. Instead, he opted for talking to him about his evening plans, "I was on my way to a barbecue. My dad's the best grill cook ever. You know, it was my mother's birthday a few days ago."

A tear slid from the man's eye down his cheek upon the tale. Immediately, Pete stopped his rambling and turned his focus on the injured man, "What's up?" Inwardly, he slapped himself for that stupid question. That guy just had had a car crash, was in immense pain and he had just asked him 'What's up?'.

"Mom…" He whimpered before he tried to get his emotions back under control, he whispered "Sammy…"

Sammy? Had he not just said his name was Sam? Why would he refer to himself as 'Sammy'? It dawned on Pete. "Sam's your brother." It was rather a statement than a question.

The injured man once nodded slowly.

"He was with you?"

Again he received a nod.

"Oh f…" Pete muttered. To the driver, he said, "I'll be right back, huh?"

Pete got up. If the man had not been alone in the car, that meant there was another victim somewhere. But neither in the passenger seat nor in the back had been someone. Panicky, Pete took a look around. That other man had to be somewhere close.

His eyes picked up a shape a little bit further down the ditch and he raced to it. It was yet another young man. The man lay on his back with his legs in the ditch water which swished around his pants' legs and sneakers. One of his arms was draped across his stomach, the other was spread out to the side. A lot of hair hung around his head and face. He appeared younger than the driver.

As before, Pete spoke to the man to wake him, "Can you hear me?"

When he received no response, Pete carefully tapped his cheek to no avail. Pete swallowed around the lump in his throat. Maybe that guy was dead…

Staring down at him, Pete put his fingers to the man's neck. A weak and way too slow thumping pushed against his fingertips. Now, Pete also registered the uneven and irregular lifting and lowering of the victim's chest as he drew in air. At least he was alive.

When the man suddenly spoke, Pete nearly jumped out of his skin. He had not expected that at all, not after checking the man's vitals.

"Dea…n…" The man mumbled without opening his eyes.

Dean? Pete looked at the man before him. No, he was Sam, wasn't he? So he asked, "Dean is your brother? In the car?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Pete."

"He… 'k?"

With unbelieving eyes, Pete stared down at the injured man. This guy was hurt just like his brother and he wondered how Dean was? What the he-? Stammering, Pete said, "Yes. He's trapped in the car."

Noticing the uneasy and nervous albeit small movements, Pete quickly tried to calm the man, "Relax man, he's okay. Really. I just talked to him. He asked about you."

But the man before him did not seem to hear him as he still tried to get himself moving. He was unable to lift his eye lids but tried to get up to get to his brother. Pete gaped for a moment before he remembered the operator's words to keep the victim calm and still. Well, that was before he knew there were two victims but it probably applied to Sam the same as it did to Dean.

"Sam, you gotta stay where you are. You're hurt. Help's on the way."

Still, Sam appeared oblivious to his surroundings, so Pete tried another approach, one he had just heard from Dean.

"Sammy, calm down."

Immediately, the man settled down and his moving-around stilled. Pete had not thought that this would really work but was glad, very glad that it did. Neither men did to worsen his injuries any further. They were hurt bad enough as it was.

Neither men were in a good condition. And Pete had no clue how long either of them could last without professional help.

"Where the hell are they?" Pete grumbled angrily. He hurried back to the man who was still trapped inside the car. He had not even crouched down before him so that he could be seen, as the man already spoke.

"How's… Sam…my?"

Pete cringed before he responded, "He's okay."

"Where's… he?"

Oh Lord, help me, what do I tell him now?, Pete prayed. He had no idea what to say and not worsen the situation.

"He's over there." Pete pointed in the general direction of Sam's position.

"And… he's 'k?"

"Yeah." Inwardly, Pete added, 'more or less'.

Pete felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up into the eyes of a paramedic. He had not heard them coming but he was glad that they were here to take care of those men. Pete got up.

"We'll take over", the paramedic's tone was kind, calm, and very professional.

Pete nodded. "There's another one." He said and stretched his arm towards the ditch.

"Alright, thanks." The paramedic addressed Pete, then he turned around and shouted to someone else, "James, over there in the ditch. Must have been tossed from the car."

Pete walked back a few steps before he flopped down on the embankment. His legs just felt too wobbly to remain standing. Pete's whole body began to shiver but he barely took note of it. A wave of relief flooded him. He was no longer alone with the accident's victims. They were no longer his responsibility. It was not that he had felt that responsibility before but right now the whole incident come crushing down. It felt so surreal. Had this really happened? Were those guys okay? And what on earth was wrong with them? They were more worried about the other brother than about themselves? Both were injured severely, their lives hanging by a thread maybe, and they wondered about the condition of the other? Neither had complained about pain. Both only expressed the concern and fear for one another. Pete could not understand that. But he tried. Maybe these brothers were really close. But who was so close to their brother that would worry more about him? He was not that close to his siblings. Of course, he loved them but probably not to an extent that he would worry much more for their well-being than his own and he knew that was mutual. But these two? They cared a lot for each other, as it seemed. That was-

"Are you alright?" A police officer had squatted down before him.

"Yeah, I think so." He felt a blanket being placed around his shoulders. "Just shaky."

"I can imagine." The uniformed man gently said in understanding. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Thinking about this evening, Pete stammered his version of events while the police officer took notes. After the distraught man had finished, the police man tapped his shoulder. "Did you notice someone else? Another car maybe?"

Pete blinked his eyes several times before he understood the question. "Yeah."

"We first assumed they lost control over the vehicle but we found evidence that there maybe was another person involved."

The distraught helper did his best to describe the other car.

"You did real good, man." The uniformed man tapped his shoulder lightly.

Pete looked up with swimming eyes. "How are they?"

"They're taking them to the hospital." The police man replied.

Only then did Pete realize that the two accident victims had already been taken away. It had happened without him noticing. Had he been so deep in his thoughts and his mind? Apparently he had been. Somehow, he had detached himself from all his surroundings that he had ignored everything and anything that had gone on around him. 'Wow, this was an evening he would most likely never forget in his whole life', Pete pondered to himself.

When the police man received no answer, he said, "We got hold of a relative, Bobby Singer. He will take care of them and their car once he gets here."

Pete nodded. His voice still shook and did not sound like his own to him. "That's… that's good."

"Good that you stopped. Nobody would have seen them from the road up there. And there's not much traffic on it anyways."

"It was the bottle."

The police man's face crossed a small smile. "Most likely, it got thrown out of their car during the accident. And it probably would have rolled down the slope very soon. If you hadn't decided to stop…" The officer left the words hanging. Both knew what he was implying and neither hoped for this indication to still come true.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

Sand Draw is located in Wyoming. I have no idea if there really is a street like the one I described. An accident like this actually happened in a similar way a few days ago in Germany. Only thanks to a bottle of coke on the street, the severely injured driver had been found.

Well, I hope you liked it even though the two brothers only had a minor part in it. Good, bad, neutral? Please let me know what you think.

Cheers,

Biensche


End file.
